Free Witch Hunt by Devin O'Branagan Page B

William’s trial, visited her father after he had been taken from the court. He gave her the deed.
    “My land is yours now. They can’t take it from you.”
    Bridget silently nodded.
    “You’ve been so strong and brave. I’m very proud of you.”
    Bridget began to weep.
    “Did you bring the berries?”
    Bridget handed him the small box of deadly nightshade, and he removed a fatal dose.
    “Are you going to kill yourself?”
    William looked into her fearful eyes. She was no longer a child. “No, they’ll kill me.” He held up the berries. “This’ll make it quicker.”
    Bridget threw her arms around him in a fierce hug.
    “Tell your mother I’ll wait for her on the other side. Take care of your brother and sister. Raise them well.”
    “Is Mother going to die too?”
    William recalled his vision. “I may be wrong, but I see you three together, without us.”
    “What will we do?”
    “When the madness stops, sell the land and go away from here. This isn’t a good place for people like us. Go to New York.” He pressed Jansen’s address into her palm. “Jan said he’d help. He says there’s greater tolerance there. Try to find others like us to marry. Keep the blood alive. Don’t lose the old ways.”
    “I promise, Father.”
    “Buried beneath the stones of the hearth in the parlor is a book. Don’t uncover it until the day you leave this town. It’s been handed down for generations. It has the secrets that your mother and I haven’t had time to teach you children. Study it, and share its lessons with Prissy and Phip.” His voice broke, and he paused to collect himself. “There’s a lot we haven’t had a chance to teach you.”
    Bridget’s weeping became sobs.
    William handed the tiny box back to her. “Take some of these to your mother.”
    She nodded.
    “Go home. Don’t stay in town today.”
    “I’ll always love you,” she said.
    He stroked her cheek. “Then we’ll meet again.”
     

     
    That afternoon, William was taken to an open field on the edge of Salem Village. A large crowd turned out to watch. William was made to lie down, and the sheriff piled heavy rocks on his chest, one by one.
    “Do you consent to plead?” Sheldon asked as the fourth rock was placed on William.
    The pain was crushing. William’s tongue toyed with the berries he had hidden in his cheek. It was still too early in the procedure to surrender to death. “More weight,” he managed to say.
    Some in the crowd began to cheer the sheriff on. William felt the blood begin to flow from between his lips.
    “Consent to give testimony and we shall remove the rocks,” Sheldon said.
    William could no longer speak.
    “Give him more,” Sheldon told the sheriff.
    William bit into the berries.
    Within moments he felt lighter. The drug — or was it his small victory? — made him happy. He could freely sense the emotions of those in his audience. He felt a few who were appalled by the “justice” of the court. Good, he thought. There was hope in that. His giddiness increased rapidly, and then the paralysis set in.
    He was finally free.
     

     
    “How long have you been a witch?” Sheldon asked Margaret.
    “I don’t understand your question,” she replied.
    “Were you born a witch, or did the Devil make you one?”
    “I don’t know what the Devil is.”
    “Did you poison Grace Weston?”
    “No, I did not.”
    “Did you give a sickness potion to the girl Elizabeth?”
    “I never saw her before my preliminary hearing.”
    “Who’s the tall man of Boston that other witches have named in their testimony?”
    “I’ve never heard of him.”
    “He’s the leader of the witches, the keeper of the Devil’s book. Who is he?”
    “I don’t know.”
    “How long have you practiced witchcraft?”
    “I don’t even believe in this thing that you call witchcraft.”
    Sheldon looked pleased with himself. “That in itself is damning evidence, you understand.”
    Margaret sighed; she had no spirit to go on with